Don't Let Me Down
by St. Harridan
Summary: In light of Shunsui's betrayal, Jushiro falls into a pit of confusion and despair. When a certain captain comes along, he arrives at a crossroads: give into his own hidden desires, or let the chance pass him by.


Written for the **March Challenge** on Prompt Bingo, LJ.

**Prompt: **#7

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Don't Let Me Down

It was one thing to find out that one's partner had been cheating all along, and it was another thing to see someone on one's doorstep, begging to be let in.

With the sudden change in Shunsui's ways, his orientations, and the coming of one such Zaraki Kenpachi, who now stood in his office glaring holes in his figure, Jushiro found himself at a crossroads. Never did he ever feel so stumped, never felt so speechless, but then there he was, staring down at his paperwork with pursed lips.

Kenpachi's spiritual pressure filled the entire room, letting loose without even a thread of restraint. Jushiro had only his own massive spiritual pressure to thank for not being reduced to a useless heap.

"What 'bout it, Ukitake?" Kenpachi took a step closer to the desk, fingers curled into fists so tight that his knuckles burned stark white against his tan skin. Jushiro swallowed, curling his own fingers, eyes still glued to the work that lay before him, daunting. But his mind was not even remotely focused. Thoughts swarmed his consciousness, so much and so recklessly that he felt like he was going to lose his sanity at that very instant. Maybe it was because of Kenpachi's sudden appearance, or probably the aftermath of that painful separation still haunted him.

Either way, his ill body pulsated with shame, with embarrassment and hurt. Never had he imagined himself in such a state. He found it hard to accept, what with the fact that he and Shunsui had grown up together, gone through countless trials and tribulations that not only tested their friendship but also their personal affections towards one another.

Jushiro picked up a pen, wrapping his trembling fingers around its smooth, cold surface, trying hard to mend his crushed heart.

"Don't ignore me, ye bastard!" Kenpachi slammed his hands on the desk, knocking Jushiro's pen out of his hand. It rattled onto the documents, rolled over the edge and landed on the wooden floor with a seemingly deafening _thunk. _"Don't touch it," he hissed when Jushiro made a move to pick it up.

Jushiro curled his fingers into tight fists, biting his lower lip, eyes downcast.

"Look at me, damn it." When he didn't even make a move to do so, Kenpachi took a few pieces of paper, reports to be checked and signed by the captain, tore them up right in front of Jushiro and let the irretrievable pieces flutter to the floor, unmasked eye never leaving his. "I don't fuckin' care 'bout all that, jus' look at me."

Finally, Jushiro forced himself to raise his head, and Kenpachi's single grey eye widened upon setting their glare on Jushiro's face. Pale skin, hollowed cheeks, dark circles – from the look of it, the man had indeed gone through hell.

Without even the slightest moment of hesitation, without much thought, Kenpachi reached out a hand, extending his long fingers, but before he could so much as flick away the lone tear that trailed down Jushiro's cheek, Jushiro sprung to his feet so fast that the chair swivelled and crashed into the wall.

"Don't touch me." Jushiro wiped his face with a sleeve and turned away. Only Shunsui could touch him, no one else. Kenpachi, slowly recovering from shock, rounded the desk.

"Ukitake-"

"Stay away!"

Kenpachi stood frozen in place, unable to lift his gaze from the man before him. It was difficult to watch him bear the responsibility, the burden, in such a lone state. But Kenpachi had no choice but to keep his distance for fear of causing Jushiro more unnecessary distress.

Jushiro took a deep breath, but his efforts to soothe his aching heart, in which grief had piled high enough to cause an implosion, were in vain as the move resulted in a series of coughs that seared through his throat. Immediately, Kenpachi was there beside him, holding him upright while he hacked into his sleeve. But, without the desire to see his already broken pride be overwhelmed with even more shame, Jushiro pushed his way out of Kenpachi's grip.

"Don't… don't touch me, Zaraki."

"Why not?" Kenpachi caught Jushiro's wrist, stopping him before he could trip over his own feet, and whirled him around. "Why not, eh? Ye ain't lettin' anyone touch ye 'cause Kyoraku's the only one who can?" Jushiro froze. "Well, that goddamn son of a bitch don't fuckin' deserve ye. All he does is screw 'round with his idiot of a lieutenant, an' ye're so fuckin' blind that ye didn't even see it comin' till it hit ye right in the fuckin' face."

Jushiro pried Kenpachi's hand off himself, and the frown that he forced onto his expression was one that spoke of denial. "You have no right to talk about Shunsui like that, Zaraki. Mind your words."

"Fuck that," Kenpachi spat, slamming the side of his fist into the wall. The lights overhead shook, threatening to collapse at that very moment. "Or are ye jus' afraid of me? Of gettin' involved with someone like me, huh? I ain't good enough for ye?"

Once again, Kenpachi managed to unmask Jushiro, dig deep into his closet and drag out his skeletons. It was for that very fact that Jushiro didn't want to be anywhere near Kenpachi. It was because of fear, of having his own secrets exposed, that he stayed away.

All throughout his relationship with Shunsui, Jushiro had… well, his affections had somehow dwindled to the point where he could only think of Shunsui as nothing more than his best friend. But, his being heartbroken at this point confused him, for he had been certain that he was taken to another person instead of Shunsui.

Or maybe it was just anxiety that he wouldn't have someone to spend the rest of his life with. Shunsui was now gone, nestled against the bosom of his lieutenant, while Jushiro dealt with a confrontation with the terror of the Eleventh Division… the man that, he was now certain, had stolen his heart.

That morning, Jushiro had been immersed in his sentiments, the personal crisis that raged within him. He couldn't choose because there were no other options – Shunsui left him, Kenpachi didn't care for him – and so he was left to busy himself with paperwork to quell his aching heart.

That was when Kenpachi threw open the door, ruffled and uncouth, causing it to slam against the wall with a loud bang that made Jushiro jump in his seat. Without his haori, bells, and care for the nature of his appearance, Kenpachi struck Jushiro in the heart with words sharper than Yamamoto's blade.

Jushiro clasped a hand over his forehead, confusion swirling around in his mind. He didn't know what to do, what to say, how to confront his own consciousness – or confront _Kenpachi_, for that matter.

"I'm better than 'em."

Jushiro looked at Kenpachi out of the corner of his eye, and for a split second he found himself hoping that he was speaking the truth.

"I'm better than 'em, Ukitake," Kenpachi growled through clenched teeth, his infamous smirk nowhere visible, "I ain't gonna screw with ye."

Feeling the burden heavy on his shoulders, Jushiro leaned back against the wall. Thoughts raced through his mind, twisting his mentality, breaking him with questions that, despite having received an answer, were being repeated over and over again. Driving him mad. To think that Kenpachi, the man he had been secretly admiring from afar, was there asking for his hand…

Jushiro fixated his gaze, though weak, on Kenpachi. His loose strands, so unlike the rough spikes he wore all the time, caught the sunlight as it pierced through the translucent curtains, turning into a lovely shade of brown that, oddly enough, reminded Jushiro of chocolate.

At the thought, Jushiro let a small, painful chuckle leave his lips, catching Kenpachi by surprise. With his forehead creased in puzzlement, Kenpachi made a step towards him, but Jushiro was slightly quicker. He got off the wall and, with eyes closed, Jushiro closed the gap between them and rested his forehead on Kenpachi's shoulder.

Kenpachi froze, caught off guard at the unexpected turn of events. Even though Jushiro didn't hug him, didn't exhibit any more… _affection _other than clutch at his waist to warn him to keep his distance, Kenpachi softened slightly at the physical contact. His shoulders, which had been stiff and rigid all along, relaxed ever so slightly.

Despite knowing that he had no other choice, Jushiro didn't find himself trapped and forced into something that he knew nothing about. He had had his experience with Shunsui… and it had been a bitter one when all he could think of was _that man _from the Eleventh.

Now, with his confusion dwindling to a more comfortable level, yet still puzzling him in every way possible, all Jushiro needed was comfort, someone to be there for him, and with Kenpachi here offering his support… Jushiro couldn't say no.

Kenpachi, tentative, wrapped his arms around Jushiro and pulled him closer so that he was nestled comfortably against his chest. "I ain't gonna screw with ye, Ukitake."

With fingers digging into Kenpachi's uniform, Jushiro buried his face in his broad shoulder. "Don't… don't you ever let me down, Kenpachi."

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